Then: Getting Boned – Now: Getting Boniva

Then: Getting Boned

Now:  Getting Boniva

Not that I don’t still partake in the THEN part of this column, it’s just that “doing it” is not something I think about daily.   Not like I used to.   I used to worry if my boyfriend and I were having enough sex or if we were having too much!  Had we fallen into a routine?  How could we change it up, add some spice?  I bought into the whole “Kama Sutra” thing.   Lotions, potions, and pretzel positions.   And I had this mental calendar thing, keeping track of when, where, how and sometimes why!

As the years passed, “getting boned” passed quietly from a “have-to-have-it” thing into a pleasurably “making love” event when the kids were asleep and has since evolved into “cuddling with benefits.”

These days, when referring to bones I’m usually talking about buying a steak – with or without one.  Or picking the chicken bones out of the soup.  Or hoping that my elderly mother isn’t choking on one.

And just the other day the word took on yet another dimension when I joined the Boniva club.  With Sally Field as a member, I guess it’s not all that bad.  But “Bad To The Bones” has certainly taken on a whole new meaning.

It appears that my bones are quite literally, well – bad.
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Boniva is supposed to prevent me from getting Osteoporosis, which means “porous bones.”  For the past year, I’ve been taking my calcium, on and off.   I guess I’m now paying for the off days.

After my exam, the doctor gave me a sample box.  From the size of it, I was certain it contained at least six pills.  Six months!  How nice of him.  But no.  After opening up the box and pulling out tons of paperwork, I then found a square of plastic that had been folded into thirds.  And there inside all the wrapping (impossible to open, by the way) was one lonely pill, sitting like a princess.  No wonder prescriptions cost so much!

The next morning I took it.  I followed the directions.  Take with water.  Do not eat or drink anything.  Sit or stand for the next hour.  Definitely, no lying down.

I won’t know the results until my next check-up.  So check with me next year and I’ll let you know the results.

In the meantime, I’ll take my pills, like a good Baby Boomer should.

And make no bones about it… I won’t be “getting boned” during that one hour that Boniva is running through my veins.

Unless we try Kama Sutra position number…hmmm…let  me see…